


Calling in Love

by owltype



Series: Hope for the Hopeless [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Friendly, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve and Tony Actually Talk, Tony Friendly, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owltype/pseuds/owltype
Summary: Tony squints at the object lying next to his head, the one playing an annoying 8-bit rendition of The Star-Spangled Banner at an annoyingly high volume. It’s the burner phone Steve had given him.At first, Tony is amused. Of course Steve had programmed it to play that song. Steve is sassy like that. Anybody who doesn’t think so has clearly never known the man.Tony’s second thought is oh fuck.Steve.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Calling in Love (перевод)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438605) by [sverhanutaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sverhanutaya/pseuds/sverhanutaya)



> **Updated and revised February 25th, 2017.**

Tony is elbow deep in a control panel when DUM-E crashes into him, sending Tony and his cart of tools tumbling to the floor. Tony’s first reaction is to throw his wrench at the clumsy bot but resists, preaching patience to himself. All that business with The Mandarin had all but destroyed DUM-E and Tony had had to rebuild the robot almost from scratch. He hadn’t quite worked out all the kinks yet, not that DUM-E had ever been without his quirks. Anyway, DUM-E can’t always help it, and Tony never can stay mad at him for long.  
  
Tony rests back against the pile of metal debris and tools surrounding him. He should get up, should continue with what he was working on, but he’s just so tired. He’d been working all night and he deserves a break.  
  
DUM-E chirps something at him and rolls closer to Tony, poking at him with his arm to get his attention. Tony swats the arm away but DUM-E is persistent. He continues to prod until Tony opens one bleary eye to glare at him. DUM-E waves something black in his face then drops it on his nose. There’s another chirp, louder this time, like DUM-E is feeling impatient with him. Then the bot falls silent as the whatever starts to ring.  
  
Tony squints at the object lying next to his head, the one playing an annoying 8-bit rendition of  _The Star-Spangled Banner_ at an annoyingly high volume. It’s the burner phone Steve had given him.  
  
At first, Tony is amused. Of  _course,_ Steve had programmed it to play that song. Steve is sassy like that. Anybody who doesn’t think so has clearly never known the man.  
  
Tony’s second thought is  _oh fuck._  
  
Steve.  
  
Tony jerks upright and snatches the phone off the floor with trembling fingers. Steve is  _calling_ him and Tony suddenly doesn’t know what to do. He had thought of this a lot in the past month, had turned over and over in his mind how he might feel when the phone lit up. Because Tony knows Steve, and Steve doesn’t operate on  _ifs_. Steve wouldn’t wait forever for Tony to reach out first. Steve would want to settle things between them as soon as possible. Honestly, Tony is surprised it took Steve even this long to contact him.  
  
Tony had imagined so many scenarios for this first time: letting the phone ring and ring and ring, until Steve finally gave up and never tried to contact Tony again; or connecting the call only to hang up, just to be petty, just to be  _mean_. He’d also had fake-arguments in his head, had thought a lot about what he would say to Steve, how he could drive the point home that he’s done,  _they’re_ done, and that Steve should just forget about him and cozy up to his best pal, Bucky, instead.  
  
Tony had never considered he might feel like this: cold and hot all over, dizzy, and his blood pumping through his veins so hard he can feel his pulse in his head.  
  
He’d never thought he’d feel…excited. Happy.  
  
The phone falls silent and Tony nearly dies inside.  _Steve_. He punches re-dial so hard, the cheap plastic creaks.  
  
Steve picks up on the second ring. “ _Tony_.”  
  
Steve’s voice is pitched low, husky, and the sound of it hits Tony in his chest and leaves him reeling. He tries to think of something witty to say but all he can stammer out is a quiet, “What is my ringtone?”  
  
“Iron Man,” Steve says a little sheepishly.  
  
“Iron man lives again,” Tony quotes. Overwhelmed, Tony sinks to the floor, his back against DUM-E. The bot drapes his arm around Tony in a little hug and gives him an awkward pat. Tony takes strength from this and finds his swagger again. “Not one of their best and honestly, I’m kind of offended.”  
  
Steve laughs and the sound of it fills Tony with warmth. “Oh, Tony,” Steve says with the weight of the world in his voice. “I’m so glad you called back.”  
  
Tony hums noncommittally. “I’m still mad at you.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“This doesn’t change a thing,” Tony continues.  
  
“Of course,” Steve says again, agreeing to disagree. Steve knows it and Tony knows it, too: the fact they’re even talking right now has changed  _everything_. But Steve, wonderful Steve, doesn’t call Tony’s bluff and gives him this moment, is obviously trying and Tony is grateful for that.  
  
But now that the time has come, anything Tony had ever thought of saying to Steve has gone up in smoke. Being without words leaves him feeling unbalanced. “I don’t…know what to say,” Tony admits.  
  
“That’s a first,” Steve teases and Tony can almost  _feel_ his smile.  
  
“Shut up,” Tony says but he’s smiling a little bit, too. It feels good to joke around with Steve again. God, he’d missed this. He’d missed Steve.  
  
“That’s not very nice, Tony.”  
  
“Leaving me for the dead wasn’t very nice,” Tony shoots back without even really thinking about it and  _wow_ , looks like he’s going right for the kill tonight.  
  
Steve is silent for a long minute, leaving Tony only with the echo of his own harsh words. Tony is about to say something else, just to fill the void because things are becoming uncomfortable again, but then Steve says quietly, sadly, “I deserved that.”  
  
Tony drops his head back against DUM-E and closes his eyes against a fresh wave of anger and disappointment and guilt. On one hand, he feels a sick sense of satisfaction in knocking Steve so quickly off his pedestal. On the other hand, he’s so sick of fighting with Steve, so sick of them throwing barbs at each other. Can’t they just reach a place of, if not friendship, respect?  
  
Somebody is going to have to be the bigger person. It might as well be him.  
  
“No,” Tony sighs. “No, you didn’t.”  
  
Steve inhales deeply, audibly surprised. “Tony, but I-”  
  
“I know what you did,” Tony says sharply. “Don’t get it twisted-I’m not dismissing your actions. I’m apologizing for mine.”  
  
“I want to, too,” Steve says earnestly. “I wanted to call sooner but I…was afraid. I didn’t know how to talk to you after…well.” Steve is babbling now, panic entering his voice. “I keep running away from these kinds of talks and I know it’s cowardly of me but-Anyway, I just wanted to say I was-”  
  
“Steve,” Tony says, stopping the other man’s tirade. He needs a moment to think. He pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache brewing behind his eyes and breathes deeply until the pinched feeling in his chest dissipates. “Look, I know you’re sorry, okay? I  _know_. But what I don’t know is if I can forgive you.”  
  
“I don’t expect you to. I wouldn’t be able to forgive  _myself._ I mean, I don’t. Forgive myself.” Steve’s voice is thin and reedy, utterly devoid of all the warmth from earlier.  
  
Tony has never heard Steve sound so defeated. Suddenly, Tony wishes more than anything that he could tell Steve it’s okay, that they’ll be okay, but he can’t. Not yet. There’s still something bothering him, something he can’t make himself let go of, no matter how much he wants to forget it. So as much as Tony wants to console Steve, instead he drives the sword in further. Self-preservation demands it. “You left me there,” he says with finality, devoid of anything other than the stark reality of it.  
  
“I did,” Steve agrees, equally grave. “And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tony.” Steve’s voice wavers then and Tony realizes Steve is crying.  
  
Tony’s heart breaks. He had watched as Steve tried to adjust to the 21st century with a stoicism Tony is jealous of. Steve had easily accepted that aliens and Norse gods are real, and he’d adapted to all of the fancy technology, even seemed to have a knack for it. Tony had also watched Steve as he learned his best friend is still alive, and he was in the room when Steve got the text about Peggy, and in both moments all he can remember is the stubborn set of Steve’s jaw and a haunted look in his eyes.  
  
Any lesser man would have bowed under the pressure, but not Steve. Steve had continued on in his insufferable way, and Tony had begun to wonder if anything could crack through that shiny veneer. At times, he’d even tried to, just to catch a glimpse at the skeletons in Steve’s closet. Had tried and had succeeded on more than one occasion.  
  
_I don’t trust a man without a dark side._  
  
The old words echo through his mind and Tony feels sick. How could he have thought…Steve is awe inspiring, is larger-than-life sometimes, but at the end of the day, he’s still just a man. And he hurts and bleeds as they all do. Makes mistakes as they all do. And now Steve is crying. Crying for himself and the far-gone past that’s still too close. Crying for them and for everything that had been lost between them. Crying for  _Tony_ , for hurting him, for abandoning him, for never being good enough, no matter how hard he tried.  
  
“Hey, no, Steve, come on,” Tony says, clutching the phone harder against his ear as if that could somehow transfer some comfort to Steve. “Please don’t cry.”  
  
Steve doesn’t say anything but the line is still green so Tony knows he hasn’t hung up. He’s listening to his friend have a breakdown and he can’t do anything about it. He wants to reach through the phone and wrap his arms around Steve, wants to run his hands through that sunshine hair and kiss the tears away. Damn it all, why does Steve have to be halfway across the world? All Tony’s got right now are words. He’s going to have to make that be enough.  
  
Tony’s goes for something he thinks will catch Steve’s attention enough to shock him out of his spiral. “So, how’s the weather in Wakanda?”  
  
“How—how did you know we’re in-” Steve chokes on the words, takes a big gulp of air and releases it on a  _whoosh_  Tony can feel against his ear.

“Oh, please,” Tony says, laughing a little. “I’m  _Tony Stark_.”  
  
“Yeah,” Steve hiccups. “How could I forget? Tony Stark, master finder of things.”  
  
“Among other things,” Tony snarks.  
  
“Just make sure to leave modest off that list,” Steve points out and  _there_ , Tony thinks with some satisfaction. Steve’s voice is still weak, still muffled and choked like he’s speaking through a bubble, but he’s getting closer to the Steve Tony knows.  
  
“Well. When you’re  _this_ good…” Tony trails off.  
  
“You are,” Steve says earnestly, emphatically. “Good. You’re the best of us all.”  
  
“Oh, stop, you charmer, you,” Tony says, trying for a joking tone but it falls a little flat. He’s really glad Steve can’t see his face because he’s never liked blushing in front of people.  
  
“I try,” Steve says and Tony is thankful to hear the smile returning to Steve’s voice.  
  
“Steve, I  _am_  glad you called,” Tony says. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”  
  
There’s a rustle of movement as if Steve had shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t give you much reason to want to talk to me. Honestly, I was kind of an asshole.”  
  
“That’s the understatement of the century,” Tony says wryly.  
  
“Ha, ha,” Steve deadpans. “The point is: I get it.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I was kind of an asshole, too,” Tony says. “So, you know. I’m sorry, too.”  
  
“Wow, that’s a first,” Steve says with faux-surprise. “Should I alert the press?”  
  
Tony blanches. “Please don’t. People will get the wrong idea about me.”  
  
“I miss you, Tony,” Steve says suddenly, quietly, like he’s giving Tony the option to pretend he never even heard it.  
  
But Tony doesn’t want to ignore it. He’s still hurt by the things Steve said and did. He’s still angry and he’ll probably be angry for a long time. But Tony also misses Steve, misses him like he’d miss his right arm, and he’s tired of pretending otherwise.  
  
“I miss you too, Steve,” Tony says.  
  
Steve’s breath hitches like he’s going to cry again.  
  
“Please, Steve,” Tony pleads. “I can’t make Captain America cry twice in one night. Eagles will attack me. American flags everywhere will go up in flames. Republicans and Democrats will start working together just to come after me.”  
  
Steve laughs. “Not Captain America anymore,” he says a little sadly. “Had to send the eagles back; they were on loan.”  
  
“Damn,” Tony curses. “I thought they could help us out next time there’s a big battle.”  
  
“I’m not…familiar with that reference,” Steve says slowly.  
  
“Steve, I’m so disappointed in you.”  
  
“You do seventy years as a—what was it?—a  _Capsicle_ , and see how many obscure references  _you_  understand.”  
  
“It’s not that obscure, though,” Tony laughs. “The  _Lord of the Rings_ came out in 1937.”  
  
“Then I’m just an idiot,” Steve says and Tony laughs harder.  
  
They lapse into a companionable silence like the ones they used to share, before. There’s still a lot to be said but they’ve made a break in the wall separating them. For Tony, it’s enough for now. They have plenty of time to dismantle the other bricks. Tony closes his eyes and listens to Steve’s measured breaths, allowing himself to be lulled into an almost catatonic state. He thinks he would like to fall asleep like this but the beeping of the phone dashes those hopes.  
  
“Steve, this ridiculous fossil you gave me is dying,” Tony grumbles.  
  
“Oh,” Steve says and his disappointment is palpable. “I guess it’s goodnight then.”  
  
“I guess,” Tony sighs, equally reluctant to end the call.  
  
“Would it be okay if I called you again?” Steve asks hesitantly, hopefully.  
  
“I’d like that,” Tony says.  
  
“Goodnight, Tony.”  
  
“Goodnight. Oh, and Steve? You’ll always be Captain America. To me, at least.”  
  
Tony isn’t able to hear Steve’s response because the line goes dead. Tony flips the phone closed and sets it on the floor in front of him gingerly. There’s an idea in his mind, one that had half-formed during his conversation with Steve but is now solidifying itself into action.  
  
Tony stands up from the floor with DUM-E’s help, bracing himself on the bot as the feeling returns to his legs. He had been tired before but now he feels invigorated. He all but runs to the elevator door, calling out instructions to FRIDAY as he goes.  
  
He’s going to see Steve again.


End file.
